


And we captured the memory

by yunnikakennings



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Embarrassment, Instagram, Jealousy, M/M, Photographs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 10:12:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10534362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunnikakennings/pseuds/yunnikakennings
Summary: Because when you're your crush's enemy, you can only ever admire them afar off - or through photographs.





	1. Chapter 1

**Baz:**

I drop my gaze, let it sweep across the features of his cherubic face. 

Let my eyes linger a little longer than it should on his healthy lips. Lips a little bitten (I do so wish he’d stop inflicting it on himself), perhaps from undue anxiety induced by the Humdrum. Or maybe he’s worried about me. I smirk. (Then I let my smirk drop because obviously Simon would never worry about me but rather about my _activities_. Learn to tell the difference Basilton.) 

His eyes are simple blue, not striking but rather, calming, you'd never notice it if you weren't paying close attention to his eyes. (But I do. _I do_. _Crowley, I'm so hopelessly in love with him._ ) I notice the pink flush on his face, the euphoric joy on full display across his features. 

It stings like a slap. My heart twists, thrumming with an undercurrent of jealousy, jealousy because it's not me next to him that he's so in love with but Agatha. 

Sweet, pretty, classy Agatha. But ever so replaceable. 

How could he like her? She doesn't deserve him.

Why her? 

Why? 

Why not me? 

Because I'm a villain? Because I'm a Pitch? Because I'm a _boy_? I snarl. 

Barely stopping myself from wrenching the photograph out of the intricately designed frame. 

A memory captured. Precious. Perfect. Taunting me. 

"Excuse me?!" 

Shit. 

  


**Simon:**

I leave the room for an extra lesson that's barely an hour long only to return to our room to find Baz snooping through my things, staring at my photograph. 

Correction.

A photograph of my girlfriend and I. 

With longing scribbled across the sharp angles of his face, open desire aired out for all to see. (Or rather for me to see. And he obviously doesn’t know that since he’s so…engrossed. 

Mesmerized. 

Enraptured.) 

And I probably wouldn’t care so much if it was anyone else. 

But it had to be _him_.

It’s always him. 

The one I’m in love with.

In love with the girl I’m with. 

_Christ._

Rich, beautiful, elegant Agatha. 

Of course he’d like her. All the boys do. 

But why does even _he_ have to like her too?

Why her? 

Why? 

Why not me? 

Because I'm a The Mage’s Heir? Because I'm Simon, orphaned, clumsy, stupid Simon? Because I'm a _boy_? 

I try to banish the thought. Zip it up in my pocket of Things To Never Ever Think About. 

I open my mouth to shout, try to lift my fists to hit the walls. 

But I’m so tired. 

Of this. 

Of fighting.

Of this fucking facade. 

I stand at the doorway, staring at him from a few paces behind. Take in the sight of him. 

Deep water grey eyes, flecked with darker hues, hooded with pale lids, shaded with thick lashes.

And then he snarls. 

“Excuse me?!” I blurt. 

Shit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry everybody, I know I said I'd read a continuation of chapter 1 and I did try but it was incomplete and I just can't seem to capture the scene. So yep ): I might get back to writing it someday (since I don't think I'll ever leave this fandom- I still can't get over it after almost 2 years) but it probably won't be anytime soon.
> 
> Anyway, I decided that this fic will be a series of incidents that were sparked off due to photographs and the like, hope you enjoy it anyway ^^
> 
> (This idea came to mind a few months back when I absolutely panicked while scrolling through this person's entire page and accidentally liked a picture she posted very long ago. And when I finally got over it and calmed down I thought it might happen to Baz.)

**Baz**

I can’t help it, it’s almost compulsive at this point. As though I can’t not open my laptop and scroll through all his photos even those I’ve seen before at least a dozen times. As though I can’t get by the day without taking a peek at his profile, to see if he’s updated anything new. As though I can’t get enough of Simon Snow even though I see him every single day-his obnoxious (perfect) laugh, his disgusting manners (God, it’s like watching a wild dog eat – a wild dog you’d like to slip the tongue), his curls that’ll never lie flat no matter how much he struggles with them (he tried to gel them down for last year’s Winter Solstice Ball but it didn’t work – not that he didn’t look gorgeous anyway.

So I sit here, my back to the wall, unceremoniously sprawled across the mattress of my Watford bed, it’s somewhat dusty and lumpy, with goose quills that sneak through the ticking and poke you but right now I’m too distracted to care.

He posts almost every day so he has at least three thousand photos by now, mainly pictures of Bunce’s moments, mostly unglamorous (frowning with squinted eyes at the whiteboard in front of the classroom, red hair gone awry with fluorescent pink dye spell and of course there’s a picture that captures her in one of her many ecstatic ‘eureka’ moments) and of course some of Agatha (sitting in the field watching the sunset, in various elegant outfits at different spots in town and of course there is one of her looking beautiful next to him at the Yuletide Ball from this year, a pair of white and gold).

I didn’t make it to any of his pictures.

But I did make it to his captions. (“Roommate is out again. Again. He must be up to something, honestly, I swear, he’s an evil genius.”)

Grimacing, I scroll through his page till I get to the end and the first picture he ever posted hits me like a punch.

He’s standing there in the middle of the Great Lawn with her. With _her_.

Arms slung across her shoulder, cheek to cheek, grinning into the camera lens, surrounded by the glistening fairy lights.

(Considering the blurred quality of the picture, it must have been taken by Bunce – not that it made their smiles any less bright, I think bitterly.)

And I’m about to leave the page, shut off my phone and try to erase the memory from my thoughts. Try to take my attention from the boy it’s been clinging to incessantly this whole year, this whole school life of mine.

But of course my witless, tapping fingers slip in my distracted state of mind and double tap the picture.

I liked the very first post on his feed.

Merlin, Morgana and Methuselah,  what have I done?

What have I done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome! (:

**Author's Note:**

> This was written on the bus on the way home from school. Yes. On the bus. And yes. I'm obsessed. So please pardon me if it's short. And guess what, I accidentally deleted it as I was walking home from the bus stop. Good grief. So I retyped it. Well. That's all. I guess I should probably study for my economics test which is tomorrow (I haven't started mugging AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA *freaks out*) (which is why I had to quickly end of this fic when I reached home) (I may or may not continue it, I'll see how the week turns out but anyway, all feedback is welcome, please do tell me how to improve if possible).  
> Thanks for reading!! (:  
> *runs off to study for the test*


End file.
